


Hangman Gambit

by Welpie



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Depression, F/M, Gen, Obviously act 1 ending spoilers, Sayori POV, Sayori's thoughts, Sorry for the bulli title, Suicide, Unrequited Love, protecc sayori 2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welpie/pseuds/Welpie
Summary: Some days it was like an old friend greeted her. Maybe it was unexpected, but they were okay.Other days it felt like the same old friend insisted to meet up. It was bearable.However, there were also days where that same friend wouldn't leave her alone.She hated those days.





	Hangman Gambit

 Some days it was like an old friend greeted her. Maybe it was unexpected, but they were okay. Nothing much changed. Life went on and on and on and on. She forgot about it.

Other days it felt like the same old friend insisted to meet up. Again and again. It felt suffocating, but it was still bearable. She got used to it.

However, there were also days where that same friend wouldn't leave her alone. She hated those days. The friend kept wanting to tag along everywhere she went. Everywhere. They wouldn't give her room to breath. She remembered every single moment. It never left.

She despised those days. It made her realize how worthless she was. How useless. She tried to distract herself with various things. Her hobbies never lasted long. It kept following her. She could never get used to it.

Happy thoughts.

Before she knew it she had started to make plans to make the friend go away. She stopped telling them where she went. Yet the friend kept finding her. Did they want her bottles so badly? The bottles were almost gone. The few left felt so fake. She didn't know how to explain it. She needed to fill them up again somehow. She had to.

Happy thoughts.

She needed those. Happy things to think about. Otherwise she would never be able to fill the bottles again. So she picked up writing. Poems came naturally to her. They could be happy. Or sad. Bittersweet. She had control over something again. She forgot about it for a moment.

Happy thoughts.

No, she never forgot. After finishing writing the old friend returned. Or maybe it never left. It kept watching, waiting. They wanted her to make one mistake. One mistake. The friend would never let the mistake go. There was friendly teasing sometimes, but it felt like a constant reminder of her failures most of the time. The friendly teasing was fine. The other, most common kind, was painful. It hurt. It made her heart feel like it split in half.

Happy thoughts.

Seeing  _him_ with the others in the club hurt too. She didn't know why. It was supposed to make her feel happy. She wanted to go up to him, but the friend held her back. They whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Happy thoughts.

She had to go back home. The friend urged her to; their hands around her neck. It was difficult to breathe.

Happy.

A note. She needed to write a note. She tore part of the calendar from the wall. Ah, a shame. She liked the calendar. (She didn't need it anymore anyway.) The pen glided over the paper as she scribbled the poem.

Thoughts.

Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. A mantra. The friend kept whispering, yelling, screaming. It became too much. Too much. It didn't stop. It wouldn't stop. It didn't leave. It wouldn't leave her be.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

She wanted to scream, but her voice was gone. She panted. The air felt like poison to her lungs. She heard him. The poem was stuffed underneath her pillow. He wouldn't find it there. No way he was going to clean anyway. He shouldn't waste his energy on her.

The friend was silent.

It was unnerving.

She told him everything. She hated seeing his pained face. She hated the face of betrayal. She knew it. She knew he would react like this. She didn't deserve him. He shouldn't care. He shouldn't be the one feeling betrayed. She was already betraying herself by telling him. She shouldn't have. She shouldn't have. She shouldn't have. Regrets. She regretted it. A lot. She felt dizzy in his hug. No. No. Nonononononononononono!

She pushed him away.

The girl told him to enjoy his time with the other club member.

Useless useless useless useless useless.

The friend returned with full force as soon as he left. They were right. Right right right right. ~~No, please don't!~~

She had to end this all.

~~Save me!~~

A rope. She needed a rope. The friend was right. They always knew the best way. ~~What was she doing!?~~ This way would be painless. Her parents were out for the weekend and would return Monday evening. No one would be bothered.

~~Stop stop stop stop stop!~~

A skipping rope. She used to love jumping rope. It was in her drawer along with other things she dropped. She also had an art phase, hadn't she? Also videogames. At one point she even tried to seek escape in those manga he loved so much. Nothing helped.

~~Happy thoughts.~~

He... She needed to see him one last time. The final time. The friend kept whispering in her ear. She shouldn't go. She wanted to go. Going would hurt. Not going would hurt. Pain. Regrets.

D o

n o t

g o.

She dragged herself out of the house. Screaming panting. Breathing became difficult. Her mind was a jumbled mess. Words everywhere. Get out get out get out get out!

GET OUT.

The other girl was in front of him. Did they kiss? Did she interrupt? Every being of her was screaming to run away and get out. The friend was yelling at her. They won't stop. The other girl ran off. She didn't blame her; she would do the same if she saw herself.

She had to  s t o p.

She did it. She told him everything she felt about him. He was speechless. Her heart felt like it could split in half. It hurt so much. So so much. She wanted it to stop. The friend didn't shut up either. Too much noise. Too much. Too much. Stop stop stop.

He answered.

She screamed.

It was too much. Everything was too much. She couldn't take it anymore.

So she ran.

And she ran.

And she ran.

And ran.

Until her legs couldn't take it anymore.

This was it. She decided. She grabbed a pen and finished the poem. A picture was taken. She sent it to Monika. At least the club would have her poem for the festival. Everyone was going to be so much happier.

Happy thoughts.

Breathing was difficult. She had one night left. One night. Then she would do it. She was sure. They were right after all. This was for the best. The best way. No one would ever be bothered by her again.

The friend laughed.

The sun shone through the window. Hello sun. It was the last time she would ever see the sun rise again. It was beautiful. Unlike her. The sun never had to worry about silly things such as emotions. Or friends. Or anything else really.

She was scared.

The setup was complete. Knot on rope tied? Check. Rope hung? Check. Chair set under rope? Check. All she had to do was climb on the chair and put her head though the noose. Then she would tighten the knot and kick the chair away. Easy. Neck broken and then she could go to whatever waited for her after this all. Hopefully. She liked to believe there was an afterlife. But... she didn't deserve it.

So so scared.

The rope around her neck felt right. It was time. She took one final breath. The last one of her entire lifetime. Everyone was going to be happy again. Every single friend. Enough happiness filled bottles for everyone. She kicked the chair.

Happy thoughts.

What was happening? Why didn't it work? Why was she trying to breathe? Her nek wasn't broken. This wasn't painless at all. So painful! It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt. She wanted to live. She couldn't do this. She had to live. Help help help help help.

H e l p.

She clawed at her neck. She had to get the rope off! She didn't care if her hands got all bloody. She didn't care if her neck burnt. All she cared about was getting the rope off. She wanted to breathe.

Someone! Anyone! Please!

She begged and she begged and she begged and she begged. She had to breathe! Her entire vision was blurry and she felt her life slipping away.

She didn't want to finish her life like this!

She had so much left to live for. He would help her. The literature club members would help as well. The poems she had to write!

She wasn't finishe—

Darkness.

Everything stopped.

The noise stopped.

Silence.

The door opened and Sayori could only think one thing.

Ah, so someone cared after all.

_I'm sor—_

 

 

S̸҉̴̥͇̝͚̥a̞̠͉̕͞ͅy̨͈̹̬̦̪͕͔̥̯͍̬̺̙̹͍̬̹͙o͉̘̰̬̮̺̬͖͢͜ͅr͏̶͚̠̳̻͇͜i̫͕͈̻̤̭͢͡ͅ,̸̢̘̺̬̜̺͚̝͇͙̮͇̫̲̻̝͡c̵͏̭̞̺̳̲̤̞̮̹̰h̡̖̗͓̳̭̜r̵̶̡̹̻͍̝̪̝͙̲̖̳͍̲͍̞̱̥͜͜ͅ ̵̧͉̪̰̼̲͚̹̹̻͎̖̱̣̻̕̕͘i̶̵̧̟̮̗̞̞̫͎̞̳̼̻̪̳͍̳̹̕s͝͏̵̱̙̜̮̥̫ͅͅ ̷̨͚͕̫͙̭͡ḑ̴̢̙͎͉̥̮̻͈̭̘̘̙͎̣̟̘͟͜ͅe̷̴̵̛̹̠͎͕l̸͡҉̺̰̺͍̠̭̺̝̪̱̻͓͙ę̸̢̪̙̼̰̭̼̝̩̰̟̥͚̟̦̼̘̼t̛̰̙̜͕̜̼̥͝e̴̴̛͎̗̝̟͍̣̤̼̞͉͍̩̺̥̜̠ͅd̡̛̫̼̹̫̼͍̞̗̻̬͘͝.̹͕͍͔̗͕̼͎̟̼

 

* * *

**_But a poem is never actually finished._ **

**_It just stops moving._ **

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's up to you whether the metaphorical friend is depression, Monika, both or something else
> 
> Just writin off some feelings boi. Also noticed no one has written some Sayori POV stuff regarding act 1 yet. (Monika is still my best girl but Sayori is interesting to write.)


End file.
